Alone
by brookieebabyy
Summary: There's a lot of things I should apologize for, actually." I took a chance that night, calling him at 2 in the morning. Thankfully he picked up, and was able to be there for me like he was a year ago. MileyxNick oneshot


A/N: Not my typically fluffy oneshot. You might be dissapointed with the ending, but the rest of the story is unwritten. You imagine what could happen next. Let me know what you think.

Nick will always be referred to as "him" in dialogue. If you're wondering who she's talking about, it's Nick. You will know if she's talking about Justin.

If you're wondering, hiatus is pretty much over for now. I will start posting more soon from all my stories but Forbidden Love (that's still on hiatus).

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

* * *

Alone

Oneshot

Alone. That's how I feel. There's a hole in my heart, aching away and eating out the rest of my body. Every night, tears inevitably come to my eyes, and there's no stopping them. I wish I could have someone to talk to, someone that would understand, but I don't. Because they're all _fake_. **All of them.**

Smiling for the cameras, acting happy when being filmed - that's not me. Not anymore, anyways. I try to plaster on a smile to fool the public, to make them think that I've moved on from him, but I haven't. It's all an act. After all, I _am_ an actress, _right?_

Every day brings another struggle. As I scroll through my phone book, looking for a friend to call to vent about him to, I fail. They would all either call the press immediately, twist the story around to make me sound bad and then call the press, or they wouldn't care. They'd hang up on me.

I wish it were easy. When I was with him, _it was_. I didn't have to pretend - it was real. And so was our love. It was more real than any other thing I've ever felt before.

Tonight, I'm so sad and angry I could hurt myself. I owe it to myself and supporters and family to not do anything drastic, but there's a nudging voice in the back of my head saying, _Miley, just do it. You've already screwed up the rest of your life, this will just _end_ it._

I stop at Justin's name, deleting it. Deleting him from my phonebook and my life. I should've listened to everyone else when they told me to end it. I shouldn't have trusted him and his lies - telling me I was his everything and there wasn't one thing he wouldn't do for me. _Right_. He loved me so much that once he got his goal, a recording contract, and a well-paid modeling job, he just dropped me. From his life. And before that, he told the whole world how _desperate_ I was for love, fame, and how much I didn't appreciate my fans or anything they did for me. **All big fat **_**lies**_.

A tear drips off my face, landing in the middle of the screen. I wipe it away.

I log onto my computer. I open the internet, and even though it feels like suicide, I type in 'Perez Hilton'. I _need_ to know what people are thinking. I scroll down the pink page, finding a picture of me posing in my bikini, Slutty Cyrus written in white in the picture, and a headline and article about what Justin said but the words twisted slightly to make it sound even worse than it was. I move my cursor over, clicking on the comments. There are few, less than 10, that say, 'let her be, who cares?' or 'I bet this is a lie,' but the rest are horrible. Tears continue pouring down my face, and I cover my mouth with my gray sweater to stop myself from screaming. It's true now - everyone hates me.

I hear a buzzing noise, and look over. My phone is ringing. I look at the number - my publicist. Shocker. She is going to make me say a statement soon, or my career would go down the toilet. I press 'Ignore.'

I wonder if they're happy now. They got him, and his brothers, on their side, and now they're the official reigning queens of Disney. They got their way. **I hope they're happy.**

I shut my laptop quickly, not allowing myself to read one more word. I look over at the clock. The red lights flash _2:05_. I wonder if he's awake. I wonder if he's with _them_. I wonder if he still thinks about me. I wonder if he'd answer if I called him.

With that last thought, I dial the seven numbers into my phone. I hold the phone to my ear; the rings sound louder each time. "Hello?" he says into the phone after it rings three times. He sounds tired. I wonder if this is a mistake.

"Nick?" I ask. Of course I know it's him. I'd know that velvet voice anywhere.

"Miley?" he asks back. He knows it's me, too.

"Hey, Nick." He doesn't sound that tired anymore. I can picture him rubbing his eyes and yawning, then sitting up in bed while propping the phone against his shoulder.

"Miles, what are you doing calling me at…two in the morning?" he asks. Part of me wants to just hang up the stupid phone and wish I never called. The other part says, stay on the phone. Talk to him. He'll know what to do. He always does.

I choose the second part. "Can I talk to you?" My voice cracks. I feel more tears rising in my eyes, threatening to fall.

"Of course," he answers.

"Really?" I ask in disbelief. "You've never wanted to talk before?"

"Listen, I know it's important." He yawns. "I'm already awake, and you sound really disappointed."

"Did you hear what happened?" I ask cautiously.

"Yeah." I know he was nodding, too, even though I couldn't see it. It was just something he'd do. Forget I couldn't see him. "Sounds like Mr. Prince Charming didn't turn out so charming, huh."

"Wow, thanks. That helped so much," I answer sarcastically. I know that he was never a big fan of Justin.

"Listen, sorry. I'm really sorry for everything that happened, for you and also for us. There's a lot of things I should apologize for, actually." _Finally_ he caves. Goodness gracious, only took, what, a year?

"Humor me." I've heard his song. '_Sorry_.' I played it on repeat 23 times as soon as I bought the CD, crying harder each time, before my sister made me shut it off. She said it was sick. But this would be his own words, not his brothers, or anyone who had to mend the lyrics. I needed to hear _him_ say it.

He sighs deeply. I can picture him running his fingers through his curly hair. How much I'd pay to run my own fingers through those curls again. "I'm sorry for…ending it that way and then not talking to you for a year. I'm sorry for never thanking you enough for helping us follow our dreams, for convincing Hollywood Records to give us a shot. I'm sorry for all the times I couldn't be the boyfriend you needed me to be. I'm sorry that I ended up getting so busy and didn't have much time to be apart of our relationship. I'm sorry I convinced you to get highlights for me."

He takes a deep breath. I know this is hard for him, but it's worth it. I've been waiting to hear these words for months. "I'm sorry you feel like Demi and Selena replaced you, even though in a way they did. I'm sorry Kevin had to wear that goddamn shirt, broadcasting it, too. I'm sorry I dated her only a few months after we broke up. I'm sorry that you were so lonely that you ran to Justin, who only pulled you close and then used you. I'm sorry he's such a jerk for using you, when you deserve million times better."

"Nick…" I warn. I don't need to be reminded about Justin.

"I got it, Miles. I'm sorry. You just don't understand how hard this is for me, though. Hearing your voice. It's like coming home to a house that smells like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies." I hear his voice quiver slightly. If he's still the Nick I know, he's tearing up. Not crying, but there are tears in his eyes. "Miley, I never meant to hurt you. Sure, I was a little angry at you many times, but there are so many things I owe you for. There are so many things I take for granted, when it's you I should be thanking."

"You really don't have to say this if you don't want to. But it's helping the pain, so thanks."

"No, you need to hear this. I've been pushing away my feelings for way too long now. I can't just hide anymore. Every time I sing, no matter the song, it's _you_ I think of. Even now, when the breakup was a long year ago, I still can't shake the image that comes up in my mind. It was _never_ her. I try and try to love her like I loved you, but I can't." I gulp. I wasn't exactly expecting that. I was _hoping_, but not expecting. "When I found out about you and Justin, that you were dating, it broke my heart. I was a mess. I told them I was just a little nervous about the tour, but it was a lie. Miley, I need you to forgive me for all the crap I've put you through this year."

I open my mouth. No words come out.

"I know it's…late, or early, however you look at it, so it's a lot to think about."

I'm silent for a while. I don't know what to say. I want to tell him I feel the same, that I'm broken without him, but somehow, I'm scared. I don't want a repeat of the last year again. As much as I do love him, I don't want to get hurt again.

"Miley? You still there?" he asks.

I'm still silent. "I miss you," I whisper.

"You miss me?" he asks in disbelief.

"Mmhm."

He takes a deep breath. It's his turn to be silent. "So what now?" he replies quietly.

"Can we be friends?"

"Friends?" He sounds like he's thinking about the options, what people would think. Or more specific, what _she'd_ think.

"Yeah. Like hanging out. Maybe not while you're with them, but just hang out like we used to, before we were dating."

"I'd like that," he says. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah. This thing with Justin will eventually blow over, and until then, I just have to stick close to my friends and not let them get to me."

"It will all get better, I promise you that. It might seem like everyone hates you and is against you, but this is what happens each time. And you know that it goes away and gets better. Your fans will stand behind you. You should say something to them so they don't believe it."

"Thanks, Nick." I wipe away a silent tear that had crept down my cheek.

"Goodnight, Miley. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah, goodnight. I love you," I whisper. He doesn't hear it. The line is dead.

I shut my phone. I turn over in my bed, and shut my eyes to fall asleep. Sleep comes quickly, and I dream about a certain curly-haired boy who captured my heart three years ago and still does. But unfortunately, things are never going to go back to the way they were. _It's impossible now_. He's moved on. He has a new life - and unfortunately, that life doesn't include me. And until the next guy comes along, I'll have to deal with being _**alone**_.


End file.
